


Vicious Things

by ejejie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Acklay (Star Wars), Clone Appreciation (Star Wars), Gen, Humor, I make up stuff about acklay because I can, Jedi Appreciation (Star Wars), M/M, Obi-Wan and his many animal friends, Pining, Pre-Slash, The 212th having fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28848459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ejejie/pseuds/ejejie
Summary: Kenobi winced as the critter yipped affectionately and started gnawing on his ear, carefully maneuvering her fangs so as not to draw blood. “Cody, I don’t have an animals thing.”Or, in which Cody, bored and tired after finishing yet another campaign in the early stages of the war on some dustball planet in the middle of nowhere, decides on a whim to get his General a pet. It goes...well, all things considered.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 26
Kudos: 319





	Vicious Things

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, I'm working on other stuff right now, but this idea would not leave me alone until I wrote it down. So here it is. Lol 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“You what?”

Cody winced as the acklay hatchling decided his thumb would make an excellent chew toy, turning his hand over to let it slide gently off; or rather, he would’ve. It hung on tight, the tiny hooks of its teeth sunk into his flesh and supporting its weight as it dangled freely. He grimaced, at a loss as to what he should do. “I said, I got you something.”

“You…Here, let me-”

The acklay unclenched its jaws and dropped unceremoniously onto the makeshift table (a boulder, really), hissing and bunching its hind legs in preparation to pounce. Cody winced, crossed his arms in front of his face, as he was not feeling up to receiving any more scarring there, thank you very much. He scrambled backwards.

But to his surprise, no tiny, determined-to-maul-a-clone-to-pieces acklay came. Instead, a slight _crick-crick_ noise came from where it had crouched, not unlike that of a key turning in a lock; then a lower, more contented-sounding hiss.

More importantly, Cody’s face remained unscathed. Well, as unscathed as it would ever look. At least his newfound scar looked ‘mysterious’ to the nat-borns, apparently, if General Kenobi’s good-natured ribbing could be believed.

Speaking of General Kenobi…

Curious, Cody peered around his arms. The man was absently stroking its back, squinting with open curiosity at Cody’s ill-conceived gift as the vile little thing eagerly pawed at his hand with something akin to pleasantness. It couldn’t be _real_ pleasantness, though, because Cody had already deemed it a hateful and wretched and all-around terrible creature; and yet, it seemed to like General Kenobi, sniffing at and letting out creaky sounds of contentment.

Alright, so Cody supposed it couldn’t be _all_ bad.

Distracted as he was by the sight of the tiny ball of fury being _nice_ for once, he was caught off-guard by an unfamiliar sound. Hesitant, he looked up.

His General was _laughing_ softly, a look of fond focus on his face as he scratched the hatchling’s chin, somehow not having his fingers turned into a bloody mess by its fangs. His face pulled into a cheerful grin when it frantically head butted his wrist in search of more pets.

Maybe the scratches and toothmarks, several in places he hadn't even known existed _,_ were worth it after all? If it meant he got to see this.

As if sensing his thoughts (and with a start Cody realized that he probably _was_ ), Kenobi looked up, concern evident. The acklay, despondent that his attention had been diverted elsewhere, climbed up onto his hand and whined loudly. Absently, Kenobi picked it up with his other hand and resettled it into his palm, stroking its back in apology for the disruption. It didn’t seem to mind though, purring with contentment as its legs swayed lazily on either side of his hand, six long and wickedly sharp wrist-claws haphazardly sticking out like tiny little knives.

Kenobi inclined his head, squinting again. “Cody,” he asked, “Are you alright? You seem tired, my friend.”

 _Cody should like to be that acklay right about now_ , Cody thought, wearily. Kenobi’s lips twitched unprompted—perhaps he’d projected that one a little too loudly.

“Ah- I’m fine, sir,” he managed, glaring daggers at the despicable abomination that dared mock him by being so sweet after having been so vicious earlier. It appeared that the mistrust was mutual—it curled almost protectively around General Kenobi’s hand, baring its teeth at him in return. Kenobi laughed again, a low volume, mellow sound that made the hair on the back of his arms stand on end and a strange heat to pool in his gut.

“This young one seems to be quite the attention-seeker,” he mused, scratching behind the thing’s crown. It made that _crick-crick_ noise again, and began toothing gently on his index finger. If it hurt, he didn’t let it show. “She’s quite social for her kind. More so than usual, in my experience at least.”

Cody felt himself smile hesitantly. “You have much experience with these, sir?”

Kenobi paused in his ministrations to peer curiously at Cody, and he felt his face flush with heat at the scrutiny. _Force, I need to get my shit together_. He tugged at his collar, unexpectedly warm.

The acklay whined again, pawing at his hand with enthusiasm, and the Jedi idly stroked its—or rather, Cody supposed, _her_ —face, quirking his lips when she rubbed her head against his knuckles and chattered. After a few moments of consideration, he took on a certain far-off expression, sighing dreamily. “Indeed I do. I’ve met…oh, I think three of them, before.”

“Three?”

“Yes,” the Jedi hummed. “Once, when I was very young. They aren’t… _entirely_ uncommon to my homeworld.”

“Huh. They live on Coruscant?”

To his surprise, Kenobi paused. “Oh, not at all. I wasn’t born on the _capitol_.”

“Really?” That was news to Cody.

Kenobi narrowed his eyes in thought, not seeming to notice as the hatchling began crawling onto his forearm, chittering softly. A teasing smile spread slowly over his face, one that made Cody’s flush come back with a vengeance. “Indeed. Most Jedi are from all over the galaxy,” he remarked, nonchalant and diplomatic as ever even as something utterly _mischievous_ glinted in his eye.

“Ah- I see,” Cody coughed, cringing slightly at being caught making a (retrospectively, rather nonsensical) assumption—that Jedi kind of just…sprung into existence on Coruscant. Sure, it wasn’t logical, but he had heard it from a brother of a brother once and hadn’t really even thought to question it. They were already a bit weird, and it wasn’t like _clones_ could judge for not having parents, so who cared? No one really knew where the rumor started, only that it was.

At any rate, it appeared that Kenobi had caught onto what he had unintentionally implied…and was _quite_ humored by it. But he stayed blessedly silent about it, watching the acklay climb up to his elbow with no small amount of amusement.

 _Perhaps_ , Cody thought, _he’s run into that assumption before. Wouldn’t put it past nat-borns._ Although, what was _their_ excuse? He cleared his throat, for whatever reason feeling like he was intruding on something.

Kenobi’s eyes fluttered shut as he let out a short hum. “You still seem a bit on edge,” he murmured, the slightest of winces crossing his face as the acklay pawed at his bicep affectionately; it just _had_ to be sending little pinpricks of pain shooting through his arm, but the Jedi showed no signs of agitation. The thing head butted him again, chirruping and settling down. One eye cracked open, regarding her with fondness. “Not you, little one. _You_ appear quite content.”

“Wasn’t earlier,” Cody muttered to himself, rubbing the tiny puncture wounds on his thumb, and _really_ , the concern reappearing on Kenobi’s face was unnecessary. They weren’t particularly painful, just…inconvenient. He’d need to get some bacta later.

But he didn’t really want to leave, yet. He knew he was free to, but his feet stayed planted in duracrete—so he cleared his throat again, shifting his weight from one hip to the other. “What were the other two?”

“Hm?”

“Acklays.”

“Ah…right.” A frown appeared between Kenobi’s brows. “Let’s see…the second time was when I was a Padawan,” he said, the hand unoccupied with holding up the acklay reaching up to stroke at his beard. She chattered loudly at this, and soon he was back to petting her again. “My master brought one home one day. It looked quite similar to this one, actually—a hatchling, like our friend here.”

“From your homeworld?”

Kenobi laughed again, sending another wave of _something_ through Cody. “Ironically, in this case, it was on Coruscant. He tended to its wounds til it could walk, and then- he let it go.” The Jedi sighed, delicately picking up one of her legs, inspecting them with a keen eye. “We had to travel halfway across the galaxy to find a proper environment to release it in. You know, I’m _still_ not sure where he found an acklay in _Coruscant_ of all places. I didn’t understand why we did it at the time, but…”

He trailed off, contemplating something. Then he patted its crown, lips curving up as it began the climb further up.

Still feeling like he was intruding, Cody started inching away. But, feeling Kenobi’s inspecting gaze still on him, he stopped.

“I must say, I’m a bit curious—why did you feel the need to bring this one to me? She…doesn’t seem to be injured. Not that I don’t appreciate the effort you must have put in, but-” Kenobi paused, frown reappearing. “Was it something I said?”

And just like that, heat rose at the nape of his neck, prompting sweat that made his blacks stick to his skin; it spread down his spine, pricking at him like tiny needles. He wasn’t sure whether it was from the seemingly never-ending harsh rays of the twin suns in the sky, or something else.

Really, how was he supposed to explain himself? Not even _Cody_ truly knew why he’d decided on the particular course of action—how would _Kenobi_ react, then?

The idea had taken shape in his mind when they were setting up camp earlier, and Kenobi went out of earshot on some scouting duty or another, and Waxer had been thinking out loud about how it was a relief that their General was a bit of a _nerd_ , but a _fun nerd, you know?_

Cody had been about to reprimand him—until Waxer had sighed, and leaned his chin on a hand, and said that it just made the whole _animals_ thing even better.

“The whole animals thing?” Cody had asked.

“Oh, come on, you totally noticed it,” his laserbrain of a brother had said, raising his eyebrows in mild disbelief. When Cody didn’t respond, futilely racking his own brain for answers, Waxer had just sighed knowingly, like he was some kind of sage.

(Cody had to admit, it was a bit satisfying to see Boil smack him upside the head).

“Sorry, Commander,” Boil had muttered, as if he wasn’t the exact same way as his batchmate. “He has a thing for picking up strays. And _people_ who pick up strays. I’ve tried…many times, to get him to stop.”

The rest of the conversation eluded him, wheels turning in his head with something—wasn’t it a _thing_ , for some people to actually _keep_ animals with them? Cody was fairly certain Waxer had smuggled more than one animal onboard the _Negotiator_ , if the random hairballs that could occasionally be seen outside his quarters were any indication. Either that, or his brother was turning into a were-tooka.

Cody hadn’t thought it was a _good idea_ at the time, he just… hadn’t really had the heart to tell Waxer off for it. And Kenobi, who one would not be remiss to describe as a walking, talking, radar-system for living things, _had_ to have sensed it, hadn’t he? What did it mean that he hadn’t done anything about it? The hairballs and scratch marks on the side of Waxer’s unit’s doors hadn’t exactly been inconspicuous, nor had they stopped appearing over the past few weeks.

As time went on, Cody admitted to himself that he was perhaps a little more open to the idea of keeping animals around than he should be. Waxer was always in high spirits, and his bunkmates seemed lighter too.

And now that Kenobi’s proclivity to doing his Jedi thing with animals had been mentioned to him, it just sort of… clicked into place. It was a harebrained scheme, really; but he remembered something from the briefing on this planet, about the dangerous creatures to watch out for. Specifically, he remembered acklay. They grew into ugly, vicious things, made of pure muscle and bone and sinew. And stars above could they _screech._ And yet, he’d _read_ they could be bonded with by certain individuals, if they knew how to do it right.

It had just been a thought, something he entertained himself with to pass the scorchingly hot day by. He hadn’t really thought there would actually _be_ one, much less a tiny little emerald _hatchling_ erupting from the rusty dirt to gnaw on his foot; much _less_ a damned _horde_ of them breaking free of their earthy prisons and making a rapid, scuttling break for the overhanging cliffs like long-legged jewels before the planet’s reptiles and birds and whatever else could make easy lunch of them.

Apparently, even the strongest of warriors had their times of weakness.

The thing at his feet, however, must’ve been a little slow on the uptake. She bit furiously at his boot like it was her mortal enemy, content to stay in the shade and protection by virtue of being tall that he provided, rather than join her brethren in the rush to safety. When Cody had picked her up, it had been out of curiosity more than anything—with a tinge of exasperation, too.

That was how it had _started_ , though. He still wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just put her down to be at the mercy of the elements here, and if her spiteful attempted murder of his hand was any indication, she wasn’t sure either.

Cody didn’t know _why_ he looked at this angry little ball of rage and thought ‘ah, General Kenobi will like this’. Because surely he wouldn’t just… take to such a baby monster, would he? Sure, he could somehow control your typical rabid beast in the field long enough for the men to escape, and sometimes it was like he pulled a random animal to aid him out of thin air, and on one particularly memorable occasion he’d convinced a wild aiwha to let Hardcase ride it around, even doing some tricks in the air (Cody _still_ wasn’t sure if Kenobi had been _entirely_ sober for that whole episode, as indulging in random, chaotic whims like that didn’t seem all that characteristic for him—but he’d found that the relief and humor of the memory, on top of General Ti laughing harder than any of them had ever seen before, meant it didn’t really matter all that much); but those were all unique instances.

Such impulsiveness would do him no favors, Cody chided himself. Much less so when he was still trying to figure a few things out about the man in front of him, whose outgoing pleasantness he had quickly found was a front for a more reserved side. His tendencies to keep to himself were almost deceptive in a way—enough to make even the most boisterous of the men a bit cautious about approaching him, though if you thought about it, he really hadn’t been anything but available. Not that Cody hated the fact that brothers didn’t waste their Jedi’s time with trivial things, but-

Well. Cody wouldn’t trade him for _anyone_. But there were times, rare, but there were _times_ , he found himself envying Rex just a little bit. What would it be like to be able to even just…slap him on the back all casual like his younger brother did with Skywalker? Or, Force forbid, play a daring _prank_ on someone like they did with that new kid, Tano? Not that Cody wanted to do _that_ , exactly, he wasn’t all that casual or outward of a person himself when it got down to it, and he sometimes felt like his playful side had been long-submerged beneath the depths of Kamino’s waves, but- a man could fantasize now and then.

But beyond the “animals thing”, beyond the desire to try to just _know_ him more, there was a question plaguing him for a short while that he hadn’t been able to put words to, until now:

How was Cody supposed to tell someone, a _Jedi_ of all things, that he seemed- lonely?

Sure, Kenobi had his fellow Jedi, and he had Skywalker, and sometimes, when he was feeling bold and more than a little lonely himself, Cody dared think that he had _Cody_ , too. And yet, he didn’t _always_ have the Jedi, or Skywalker, with him; not like the vod’e had each other. Not like Cody always had his brothers around him, his _family—_ unspoken barrier the Kaminoans had partially succeeded in erecting between him and them, by the lines of authority, notwithstanding.

Sometimes, Cody just wanted to tell him he was _there_ , he was _here_. He would be right beside him, for anything.

And sometimes, he felt something deep in his chest, something he promptly buried under years of rules and regulations each time it arose; and yet, it just kept coming back, even more so in times like this. He knew it would get him in trouble, knew he could never voice it aloud unless he wanted to be wiped and _re-educated_ faster than he could blink. And yet…

Sometimes, he wanted Kenobi to be _there_ with him, too. To be _with_ him. To-

It was a stupid want, a reckless one. And like he said: foolhardy, ill-thought-out gestures certainly wouldn’t do him any favors.

…Except, it seemed, Cody’s impulsiveness _had_ done him a few favors, because some time in the middle of his distracted inner rambling, Kenobi had taken his wrist in his hands and was turning it over in concentration. He furrowed his brow, fingertips hovering just over the tiny marks from the acklay’s fit. The culprit stared down its nose at him from where it had primly perched itself on Kenobi’s shoulder, even _sniffing_ when the Jedi made a concerned noise as his thumb brushed a scratch.

Making sure Kenobi wasn’t watching, he made a face back at her.

 _Stars above. I’m getting jealous of a hatchling_.

“Uh- sir?”

“Hm?”

“…What are you doing?”

Kenobi hummed noncommittally. “You seemed a bit lost in thought, there. I apologize if I…made you uncomfortable.”

“Wha- no, I am most definitely _not_ uncomfortable. Very _comfortable_ , actually- in my, uh. Well.”

Kenobi quirked an eyebrow, though he didn’t look up. “I’m…relieved to hear that,” he replied, amused. “Comfortable in your…?”

“I…was gonna say _position_ , but then I realized what it sounded like.”

To his surprise (Cody was finding himself surprised more than usual during this _particular_ encounter), Kenobi barked out a short laugh, leaning into his personal space briefly. Which was probably why Cody’s breath caught in his throat. “Cody, please promise me you won’t ever worry about misspeaking around me? Because I _promise_ you, I’ve heard worse.”

Cody felt his lips twitch, a strange boldness spurring him on. “Yes, sir. I’ve met your apprentice, too.”

That got a genuine guffaw out of him, the acklay rubbing her face against his and purring, in tune with the light mood. “Don’t you go getting _sarcastic_ , though. I can only take so much of that from my _apprentice._ ”

“Duly noted.”

Kenobi breathed out sharply through his nose, the remnants of his amusement he’d managed to get under control. He spared a glance at the acklay, turning herself in circles on his shoulder. “I must say, I’m somewhat impressed you managed to get this little one here on your own.”  
  
“Well, we had our- _disagreements_ , as you can see.” Kenobi _still_ hadn’t released his hand, examining a scratch between his index and middle fingers. It wasn’t like Cody was going to pull his hand away, at any rate.  
  
“Yes- do get some bacta patches for these, won’t you? They’ll heal with time, but there’s no reason to suffer through it. We should have plenty of resources.”

The acklay leaned forwards, no doubt trying to climb on Kenobi’s chest; however, she slipped slightly, and on instinct the longer claws on her front joints snapped down and dug into his shoulder. He grimaced, bringing a hand up for her to cling to so as to prevent her falling; she chirped apologetically, clambering onto his palm.

Cody raised an eyebrow. “I’m assuming you’ll be getting bacta for _those_ , too? Why aren’t you wearing your armor, _General_?”

Kenobi mirrored his expression, no doubt conveying far more skepticism than Cody was. “She hasn’t actually tried to hurt me, unlike she did _some_ people. And I don’t exactly see _you_ wearing your armor, either.”

“Felt less like armor and more like a set of cooking utensils, the way I was baking in there,” Cody replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “What’s _your_ excuse?”

“You never answered me earlier,” Kenobi countered. The acklay hopped down to his feet, sniffing at one of his boots. “If this was some sort of message about me wearing armor, consider it received.”

“A what?”

Kenobi squinted at him, and Cody recognized it as the look he gave Skywalker whenever he was trying not to set a bad example by rolling his eyes. “I assumed this was some sort of ‘you could easily be stabbed by one of these’ attempt at convincing me to wear more protection. Trust me, in this case? I’m aware. Perhaps a little _too_ aware,” he grumbled to himself, eyeing the damned _knives_ sticking out of the wrists of his guest. She chattered excitedly, bunching all six legs; then she _pounced_ , bounding all the way up to Kenobi’s chest and sinking six three-fingered sets of claws into the front of his tabards. To his credit, he didn’t even flinch, opting to gently hold a hand underneath her while she scaled her way back up to his shoulder. Triumphantly, she head butted the side of Kenobi’s face, and got a proud smile in response. “Quite the athlete, aren’t you,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

Cody, who had been watching all of this unfold like a particularly slow battle droid, backpedaled once he registered what had been said. “No! No, I- that’s not what- well, actually, now that you mention it, that _would’ve_ been a good message.” Kenobi _did_ roll his eyes at that, and Cody idly wished for the ability to disappear at will. Instead, he forged on. “But that’s not what I was, uh. Going for.”

“Hm? Well, I have to say I’m a bit glad to hear that. It felt like a rather… _last-ditch_ attempt from you. Uncharacteristically so.”  
  
“Right,” he mumbled. He toed at the ground absently. “Well, it wasn’t really- wasn’t really my _plan_ , per se. Picking up a baby acklay, I mean.” He looked up, grimacing, and was met with Kenobi humming an affirmation, asking him to continue. When he struggled to find the words to voice his thoughts, the man sighed, offering him a bemused smile.

“So you…was it the _men’s_ idea, then?”

Was Cody going crazy, or did he almost sound…disappointed?

“Yes and no- well I mean, we were talking about- here’s the thing. I saw it, and…pet,” he finished lamely. _Ah, perfectly articulated, you fucking idiot_.

“…So it _was_ your idea?”

“Y- uh huh. I read about them, and it was just _there_. My idea.”

“…To get me…?”

“A pet, yes.”

Kenobi stared at him, incredulous in a way that Cody had only ever seen him once or twice. When Cody didn’t explain himself further, he crossed his arms, prompting the acklay to chirp and slide down his chest to situate herself within them. He glanced down at her, distracted. “Jedi don’t…keep pets.”

“…You don’t?”

“No…?”

“Really? I mean… there’s the whole animals thing.”

“The…animals thing.”

“I dunno, I thought you might like it. It looked kind of wizard, I guess.”

“I…suppose it does. They grow far too big to keep on the cruiser- listen, what animals thing? I don’t have an _animals_ thing.”

“Uh- I mean, whatever you say. I don’t know enough about it to dispute it.”

Kenobi winced as the critter yipped affectionately and started gnawing on his ear, carefully maneuvering her fangs so as not to draw blood. “Cody, I _don’t_ have an animals thing.”

“What do you call _that_ , then?” Cody pointed tentatively at the acklay, still climbing all over him like some sort of obstacle course. “I’m pretty sure that thing wanted to rip my throat out, but she _loves_ you.”

The Jedi blinked, and it seemed like he noticed his guest’s affection for the first time. “ _All_ of us can do it. I’m not special.”

“Well _I_ can’t. Whatever it is.”

“No, I meant Jedi. Force-bond. With animals.”

“…Oh.” Cody considered this. “Are you sure?”

“Am I _sure_ about my own Force-abilities?”

“…I mean, yeah.”

“Cody-” To his surprise, Kenobi snorted, a rather undignified sound that he kind of wished he had on a holovid. “You don’t Force-bond with something to keep it as a pet. It’s a… an _ally_ , more or less.”

Stars above, this had to be one of the worst ideas he’d ever had; and all he had to show for it were scratched up hands and a mildly offended Jedi, right when he’d been starting to get to know him a little better. He averted his gaze, examining the planet’s dirt beneath their feet. It was brackish and rust-colored, interspersed with tiny granules of salt crystals; probably why the plant life here was so sparse, or perhaps hidden beneath the ground like its fauna appeared to be.

Caught up in his musings, he almost missed the sigh from in front of him. “I apologize, Cody.”

His head snapped up, finding the Jedi closer than before, one hand hesitantly extended out as if it had been about to clasp his shoulder. But when Kenobi saw he’d looked up, he retracted it quickly to scratch at the acklay again. She made that _crick-crick_ noise again, and balanced on her hind four legs, the three-fingered hands of her front legs sinking into his hair.

 _Should’ve kept my head down_ , Cody thought. “Apologize for what? You didn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Cody pursed his lips. “Cody, I _appreciate it_. Really.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know- look, I can go put her back.”

“Stars above- _Cody_.” He blinked, surprised at the exasperation Kenobi let into his voice. Idly, he wondered if part of it was from the pain of an acklay tugging on his hair as she tried to climb up on his head. “How were you supposed to know? I’m not offended by being given a _pet—_ people keep them all the time. I’m a bit fond of Waxer’s tooka, myself.”

“Wha- you _knew_ about that?”

“It seems to think my lightsaber is excellent prey. I’ve had to change how it turns on and off just to be safe.”

“It- stars above, you already drop it _enough_.”

Kenobi shook his head, the acklay now perched upon it screeching with excitement at the unexpected ride. He reached up to scratch her chin. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he murmured, though it lacked any sense of reprimand. “Don’t worry about returning our friend here. She will find her way home when she so decides.”

He couldn’t help the wry twist of his mouth. “She seemed to _decide_ that I was her first prey.” The acklay spared him a glance, clacking the claws on her front legs’ wrists at him; with a start, he realized that what he’d thought were singular claws were actually _pincers_. “Just how many weapons does she have at her disposal? I’m almost envious.”

Kenobi hummed in thought, stepping past him and briefly brushing his shoulder against Cody’s, who then promptly forgot how to breathe for several seconds; the place where they’d made contact tingled faintly, the feeling dispersing with slow flourish. He quashed the thought of _why did he step so close, it’s not like there isn’t enough space for him to move past without contact_ , deeming it something to be preserved for thinking about later (when he had more time on his hands to worry about things that would never amount to anything). Kenobi paused a step behind him; hastily, he turned around, realizing somewhere that he was probably being asked to follow.

He almost missed the Jedi grunting as the acklay got a better hold of his hair, riding on top of his head in a strange reversal of what Cody was pretty sure a person normally did with an animal that would become a large beast. Kenobi turned his head to look back at him, smiling rather cheerfully. “She _is_ one of the galaxy’s greatest hunters. Or, she _will_ be. She’s quite agile, don’t you think?”

Cody coughed. “Uh…yeah, sir. Quite- agile. I have to ask, doesn’t that hurt?”

“A bit, yes. Nothing I haven’t experienced before, though.”

“You let acklay ride on your head all the time?”

“Well, not exactly. Occasionally, though, when he was very young? I’d give Anakin a ride on my shoulders.”

“Oh…?”

“He never could quite figure out where to put his hands.”

Before what Kenobi had said had fully registered, Cody realized he was grinning from ear to ear; he couldn’t help but wonder about what a young Skywalker would’ve looked like; what a younger _Kenobi_ would’ve looked like. _Stars, I’m getting ahead of myself._ “Are you saying he used to grab your _hair_?”  
  
Kenobi grimaced. “It used to be a lot longer than it is now. You’re lucky, wearing it short like that.” He sighed. “Sometimes my ear would be a victim, too, if he was losing his balance.”

“That sounds…painful.”

“The things you do for your Padawan,” Kenobi grumbled, and the slight note of bittersweet fondness in his voice prompted a snort. The Jedi’s mouth twitched, and then he was snickering to himself, too. “Force above, I haven’t told _anyone_ about that. Promise me you won’t tell Anakin I said anything?”

“If you promise not to tell anyone I tried getting you a feral demon for a pet.”

“Consider it a deal.” Abruptly, Kenobi’s eyes fluttered shut, in what Cody had slowly discovered was the telltale sign of him sensing something out of sight, and he came to a halt. Cody almost bumped into his shoulder, stumbling a bit to the side in order to avoid contact, and the acklay gave him a dirty look from its perch; she kneaded the hair beneath her with the tiny, three-toed hands on her front four legs. _Stars_ , Cody thought, with no small amount of amusement, _his hair’s gonna be all sorts of kriffed up_.

The Jedi opened his eyes, offering him a knowing look. “It will be hours before we’re expected to deploy. Care to join me? I’d like to…sit with the men.” He rubbed at his head sheepishly, and the acklay took it as a chance to grab at his hand with her mouth, toothing gently on his index finger. “If you think they wouldn’t mind. If _you_ wouldn’t mind. I figured…” he trailed off awkwardly, at a rare loss for words.

Quickly coming to the conclusion that he should probably do more than just stare at him and blink, Cody coughed. “Yes of course.” Kenobi’s brow furrowed, contemplative. “I mean, yes of course you should join us. I don’t mind. I- the men won’t mind.”

And, he realized, he was certain they wouldn’t. His mouth twitched up at the corners. “Actually, I _am_ a little worried about it. But only because it’ll probably make them feel free to ask you stupid questions.”

Kenobi barked out a laugh. “Those are the best kind,” he countered. “I’d rather I get an earnest question than any other kind.”

“How many kinds of questions are there?”

“I wouldn’t know. Let’s just say that I’ll answer anything, as long as it isn’t a politician asking.”

Cody smothered a laugh with a hand, the effort made much more difficult when he realized that the baby abomination sitting on Kenobi’s head was now chewing away on a strand of his hair. Then, realizing something, he paused.

“Are you planning on taking that thing with you?”

“Hm?” Kenobi absently ran a thumb along the edges of the acklay’s crown, who purred in gratitude. “I don’t see why not?"

* * *

And that was how he found himself sitting beside Kenobi in the clearing of their camp, as far-tucked into the shade of the cliff sides as they were able to make it. Men were sprawled around in a loose circle doing a myriad of tasks, from polishing weapons, to munching on rations, to trying in vain to alleviate some of the heat by fanning each other.

The one common thread among them was that they were all remaining quiet, and that none of them were bothering to hide their curiosity.

Cody himself sat cross-legged, back rigid in the way that he did instinctually, not quite able to settle himself in the same casualness. He wanted to reprimand them for the open staring, because how would _they_ like it; but he refrained from doing so for a few reasons. One, the more important reason, was that Kenobi didn’t actually seem to mind. At all, in fact. He had sat himself in a kneeling pose, hands in his lap, eyes shut; for all intents and purposes, he appeared the picture of serenity, maintaining a long and meditative stillness that Cody was pretty sure that he himself would’ve lost within seconds if he ever tried it.

The other reason was that, well. Even Cody had to admit that it was a bit of a strange sight. It wasn’t every day that you saw a newly-hatched apex predator sitting on top of a meditating Jedi’s head, happy as could be.

Cody bit into his ration bar, feeling several pairs of eyes watching his every move before flitting back to Kenobi. He grunted, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the flavor. “You’d think the higher-ups could afford better food,” he grumbled, mostly to himself.

To his surprise, he felt Kenobi move beside him; the man inclined his head in thought, making a noise of affirmation. “I suspect their attitude on what makes adequate rations would be a bit..different, were they required to sustain themselves on these.”

His dry comment seemed to open the floodgates, a few grunts and murmurs of assent dispersing around the clearing. Out of the corner of his eye, Cody spotted Waxer nudging Boil, a mischievous grin on his face.

Cody rolled his eyes. “Waxer, just come out with it. I can’t stand seeing that look on your face.” Snickers wafted through the air, which he opted to ignore. The clone in question blinked, shooting Boil a dirty look when his batch mate nudged him back, harder.

“Sir, I…” Waxer squinted, and the _wholly unnecessarily_ pleased look was back on his face. “General Kenobi, can I ask you something?”

Kenobi blinked his eyes open lazily, squinting for a few seconds to adjust to the brightness. “Any time, Waxer.”

Waxer opened his mouth up to speak; then, as if reconsidering what he’d been about to say, he closed it. He grimaced, seeming to decide that he intended to plow on with whatever was plaguing his mind. “Sir, why is there an acklay on your head?”

A shiny was unable to muffle a laugh, and was quickly silenced by the advent of his batchmate’s elbow in his ribs. The corners of Kenobi’s mouth twitched upwards, regarding Waxer with a strange expression; belatedly, Cody recognized it as the look he got whenever he had just decided to bullshit someone. He ran a hand over his mouth, willing himself to stay quiet. “It’s my new hat.”

Cody clenched a fist against his leg, biting his lip to keep from reacting. A few others weren’t so composed, guffawing to themselves and quickly switching their attention to Waxer’s response. Gearshift at his left twitched, but otherwise gave no outward sign he was listening; Cody found himself quite proud of the inscrutability he was managing. _Better than I’m doing_.

Waxer blinked, trying for a disbelieving tone even as his face split in a grin. “Your _hat_ , sir?”

Kenobi hummed, closing his eyes again even as his lips curved up in a smile. “The pinnacle of Coruscant fashion,” he deadpanned, made all the more absurd by the fact that at the precise time he responded, the acklay decided she would climb down over his face.

Waxer folded his hands behind his head, leaning back onto Boil a bit. Boil rolled his eyes, but made no move to get away. “Waxer, you can’t just ask someone why there’s an acklay on their head.”

“Wha- Boil, I think it’s a _perfectly reasonable question!_ ”

Gearshift leaned forwards, elbows braced on his knees. “Not if you understand high fashion.”

“Gearshift? You _too?_ ” Gearshift blinked innocently, prompting Longshot to cough into his hand. Wooley thumped him on the back, receiving a choked _thanks_.

Cody sighed. _I suppose Kenobi did promise not to tell anyone_. He risked a glance over at said Jedi, unable to contain a quiet snicker when the creature dropped head over heels onto the man’s lap, six skinny legs waving about in the air as she stared up at him, hissing softly.

He inclined his head in some sort of half-bow, gently lifting her up onto his shoulder. The spiny ridges that wrapped around her shoulders and extended down her abdomen caught on his tabards, pulling one or two strings loose as she scampered free and back up onto his head. He raised a hand up to stroke her face, letting her chew on one of his knuckles again. “I’m a little afraid of what my hairstyle is going to look like,” he muttered.

Cody twitched. “I’m sure it’ll be very fashionable, sir,” he replied, distracted by the acklay letting loose several creaky noises. “She’s a bit loud for a hat, though.”

Gearshift leaned over to stare at the creature, openly curious. “She?”

“Indeed,” Kenobi replied. He sighed, bracing himself on the ground and shifting his legs out from underneath him into a half-sprawled kneeling position that Cody privately thought couldn’t be all that comfortable. “The bright green ones are female. Strangely enough, it’s been found that the brighter the color, the more likely an acklay will be an alpha.”

“An…alpha?”

“Acklay are…shall we say, _quite_ territorial. This horn on her chin is meant for sensing prey, but it can also be used to sense competitors in her area.” The acklay buried her face in his hair, rubbing incessantly. “They battle for dominance with their hatch mates, picking them off one by one until only the most ferocious is left.”

Boil bumped his shoulder into Waxer’s, prompting a soft _oof_. “That’s what I did with my batchmates, pick ‘em off one by one ’til they made me leader. I’m most ferocious.” Waxer rolled his eyes, bumping him back.

Wooley snorted, picking up a rock and halfheartedly tossing it at him, which was easily evaded. “You only _think_ you’re leader, moron.” Waxer picked up a helmet and pulled it down over Boil’s head, laughing and dodging when Boil threw a lazy kick at him.

Kenobi watched all of this with a fond smile, exchanging a glance with Cody. “I suppose I should also mention that they eat their competitors. Their mates, too.”

Wooley, who’d been about to throw another rock, and Waxer, who had been scooting backwards, both paused. Boil pulled the helmet up to give Kenobi a wide-eyed look. “Did you just say they _eat_ their batchmates?”

Kenobi hummed, leaning back and turning his face up subtly towards the twin suns, soaking in their rays. “Something you wanted to tell us, Boil?” Boil blinked, shaking his head even as he flashed a hesitant smile.

Yet more snickers flew around the camp again, emboldened by the General’s good mood to be a little more loose. Gearshift, however, frowned, examining him with curiosity. He inclined his head, leaning his chin on clasped hands, elbows braced on his knees. “You seem to know a lot about these things,” he reasoned, shooting Cody a curious look. Cody shrugged.

Kenobi’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “One might say it became a…point of interest.” When he didn’t elaborate, Cody frowned, realizing something.

“General, you never said—what was the third time?” He ignored the several inquisitive looks thrown his way.

“The third time?”

“You met an acklay?”

Kenobi’s eyes blinked open, and for a second, he seemed exhausted, as if a shadow had passed over him and left him weary and resigned. But as quickly as it came, it was gone, and he was back to smiling, if a bit more wistful than before. “Funny story, that,” he said to himself, as if lost somewhere else; then he blinked, subtly shaking himself out of it. “Actually, I’m a bit surprised this has never come up before.”

Watching him resettle his legs until they were loosely crossed in front of him, acklay hopping off his head with flourish to land gracefully on the ground between them, Cody couldn’t help but think that maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But the General didn’t deny his request, reaching out to gently pat her on the head. “I apologize if I’m being a little cryptic—it’s a… _charged_ memory, to put it lightly.” He paused in surprise when the acklay let out a determined screech and _hoisted_ herself up onto the long pincers of her legs, until she was standing upon all six of them in some sort of deadly-looking balancing act. Suddenly, her head reached up to past where Kenobi’s knee would be, if he were standing.

Cody felt himself staring, wide-eyed, because holy _kriff_ that sent a shiver down his spine. Before, she had most just looked like an angry saucer with toothpicks sticking out the sides, but now-

Now, the acklay was so… _leggy_. Worse still, she seemed _quite_ agile like that, as Kenobi had described her. She scuttled freakishly from between his legs over towards Longshot, who promptly scrambled backwards, as did several of the men when she had first moved. The acklay inclined her head, as if curious; she took a few more steps—or rather, _stabs_ , with the way she was poking holes in the dirt with those wrist-knives of hers—and leaned forwards, sniffing.

Longshot, who had scrunched up into a ball and withdrawn his hands to his chest, slowly, _slowly_ , unfolded himself, cautiously extending a closed fist out. She opened her mouth, scenting it; then, chirping, she rammed her crown against it, causing him to flinch away. The creature didn’t seem to mind, though, trotting over to Waxer with a contented noise and lowering her front half to the ground by extending her pincers out wide, hissing in what Cody was starting to think was some sort of greeting. Waxer looked up at Kenobi; seeing as he made no move to get up from where he was now splayed out in loose relaxation (Cody would not think about what that posture looked like, he would _not_ ), his brother seemed to gain some courage, putting a hand out like Longshot had.

The acklay seemed to like his confidence, chattering and stabbing the ground in front of her once, twice, with a claw. She nuzzled his hand open, hissing softly when he carefully scratched her chin where Kenobi had been doing the same.

The grin on his face was priceless, Cody thought, spying one or two of the men taking clandestine holos. This would no doubt be shared later as part of a story.

(If they thought he hadn’t seen them doing the same with Kenobi and the acklay earlier, they were mistaken).

Waxerlaughed, leaning forwards and scratching behind her shoulder-ridges, earning him a gentle bite of affection. “Are all acklay like this, sir?”

Kenobi leaned back, humming. “Unfortunately, no. I can’t say I’d recommend them as pets, unless you can communicate with them by the Force. They’re rather fickle.” Waxer sighed, pursing his lips and bowing his head.

“But I can’t use the Force, sir.”

A small smile appeared at the corners of the Jedi’s mouth. “One doesn’t have to move objects or have visions to use the Force, Waxer,” he began, and Cody briefly turned over the _have visions_ part in his head a couple of times, filing it away as something to ask him about later. Kenobi continued, quirking an eyebrow as the acklay rubbed her face on Waxer’s wrist. “It seems to me, you already have a rather excellent grasp on how to bond with others.”

His brother blinked at the praise, aimlessly drawing in the dirt with his index finger not currently being toothed on. He looked down, in an attempt to hide the stupid grin no doubt plastered all over his face. Boil rolled his eyes, harrumphing. “Sir, with all due respect, he does it _too_ well. Is there any way I can use the Force to make him stop giving every last rock and stick he picks up a name?”

As Wooley snorted into his ration bar and choked out a cough, the Jedi leaned back, regarding Boil with a healthy dose of amusement. “I’m afraid,” he drawled, “That it doesn’t quite work that way.”

Cody was unable to stop a sharp exhale, quickly covering his mouth by running a hand over it to hide the smile. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough; Kenobi rolled his head towards him, smirking knowingly, and his heart fluttered in his chest, wondering how he might be able to get the Jedi to make that face again sometime. How he might get him to make _several_ of the faces he’d made again, sometime. “Something to add, Commander?”

Cody coughed. “Oh, nothing. I’m mostly just wondering why she seems to hate me so much. Because clearly it isn’t my face.” Gearshift snickered beside him, watching as the acklay continued going around the circle in a random pattern, meandering from one brother to the next.

For a brief moment, Kenobi’s playful grin got wider, almost to what he’d have to call a _leer_ ; then, as if catching himself, the Jedi looked away, though his lips still twitched intermittently. “I can’t say I know, either. Perhaps she thinks you’re a _competitor_ ,” he lilted, and something about the way the word rolled off his tongue sent a shiver down Cody’s spine.

Blessedly, several of his brothers were either completely occupied with trying to entice the acklay to come their way, or they were oblivious as ever. Longshot cackled, shuffling his position until he was lying on his belly, apparently finished with polishing the blaster beside him. “Well, he _is_ kind of an alpha, sir.”

Cody shot him his most unimpressed glare. “And you better not forget it,” he grumbled, laughing to himself as three shinies’ backs instinctually straightened. “You’re lucky I don’t feel like reasserting my dominance.”

Longshot put his hands up in mock surrender. “Please, sir, please! Don’t go all acklay on me.”

And, as if he’d spoke it into existence, the acklay twitched. From where she had been enjoying pets on the back from Trapper, she turned her head to stare at Cody, before scuttling out into the middle of the circle. Murmurs sounded around the clearing, men watching her every move.

Without warning, she rose up on her four hind legs, waving her pincers in the air and screeching loudly before slamming them into the ground. Sprays of dirt flew out from where she stabbed, churning up a small dust cloud as a breeze wafted through the camp; then, she charged.

Reflexively, Cody pulled his feet underneath him, crouching in preparation to either jump up or defend himself; but just as he thought she would strike him, she stopped in front of him, glaring at him with a burning intensity and baring rows upon rows of sharp fangs.

Without thinking, Cody made a face. “What’s your _problem_ ,” he snapped, ignoring the feeling of eyes on him as he tensed, adrenaline still coursing though his veins. The acklay hissed, clacking her two front pincers. She raised herself to her full height, pincers of each leg alternating turns stabbing the ground.

Then, to his surprise, Kenobi sighed and extended a foot out to nudge her. It seemed to snap her out of a trance; she shook her head, and gave a low, apologetic whine before scuttling back over to him. She climbed in his lap, careful to avoid stabbing him with a pincer (but still prompting him to wince at the sudden, spiky weight). Kenobi stroked her crown absently, seemingly lost in thought. “It appears that she actually _does_ think you’re some sort of competitor,” he mused. Cody released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, rubbing his arm and awkwardly resettling into a rigid, cross-legged pose.

“Yeah, well, I’d rather she _didn’t_.” He rolled his eyes at the thing, pointing at his own face. “Oi. Sleemo. Do I look like an acklay to you? No eating.” He ignored Gearshift’s muttered _well you can be kind of prickly_ , followed by the sound of a few smothered laughs.

“It’s curious, to say the least. I’ve only ever seen this once before,” Kenobi mused. He put a hand on her back, gently pressing down. She purred, agreeing to this and settling on top of him with her pincers pointed away from him on either side.

Something clicked into place. “The third time,” Cody said, not quite asking. The Jedi nodded.

“I must say, that’s it.” He sighed, scratching behind the creature’s shoulders. “I met one back on Geonosis, at the very start of the war.”  
  
Cody felt himself still. “You mean… _the_ Geonosis? As in, _Battle of Geonosis_ , Geonosis?”

Several pairs of eyes trained themselves on them, brothers no doubt aching to ask him questions about it—but restrained enough to know Cody would probably flay them alive if they spoke out of turn right now. Kenobi nodded in affirmation, not taking his eyes off the acklay. “That would be the one, yes.” He picked up one of her legs, carefully examining it, running a thumb over a pincer. “I’ll spare you the details- all that’s really important to know about that particular encounter, is that it began with a planned public execution, and ended with me running a lightsaber through an acklay’s gut.” He sighed again, a wistful note in his voice. “I figured I should know more about them, to prevent something like that from having to occur again.”

All Cody could do was sit there, staring; a quick look around the area would’ve revealed the others doing the same. “Hold on,” he said after a moment, raising a hand to preemptively stop the _tidal wave_ of questions he sensed were about to follow. “Did you say _public execution?_ ”

Kenobi looked up to meet his gaze, a frown creasing his brow. “Yes, I thought that part was common knowledge?” Cody wanted to bark at him that _no_ , that part was _not_ common knowledge, what the absolute _kark_ , _sir_ ; instead, he just grit his teeth, letting the man finish his thoughts. He stroked the acklay’s neck, a contented noise from the creature soon following. “I regret that I didn’t at least _try_ Force-bonding with it. Anakin succeeded with taming the reek—those creatures were mostly just underfed, I believe, which made them aggressive. I should’ve realized that.”

Gearshift shifted beside him, staring pointedly at the countless weapons attached to the newly-hatched predator currently occupying the General’s lap. “Sir, something tells me that you can’t reason with a pissed-off one of these.” He coughed. “I mean, you _saw_ how bad she wanted to fight Cody. Oh and, by the way, my money’s on the acklay, personally.”

Cody rolled his eyes, though he was grateful for the attempt at levity. “You don’t have any money, dumbass. And even if you did, you’d lose.”

Waxer shook his head, even as he darted a nervous glance around the circle. “Sorry, Commander, but there’s no way you’d win against her. One screech and you’d start running for the hills.”

“I’d do better than you louts. I’m the only one she sees as real _competition_ , remember?”

Kenobi inclined his head, a faint smile on his lips, most likely able to see right through what they were doing but deciding to play along for the hell of it. “Oh, I don’t know, men. Speaking from experience, I think he’d do just fine.”

Longshot bowed his head, closing his eyes in a pale imitation of Kenobi’s pose earlier. “I don’t doubt your wisdom, Master Jedi,” he said gravely, mimicking how the locals had addressed him earlier, “But our brother would get his ass kicked all the way back to Kamino.”

The Jedi blinked, clearly not expecting his boldness; then, he ran a hand over his mouth, in a doomed attempt to hide an amused exhale. He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as a grin split his face, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

If one of the fools around him wasn’t at least taking several more images of this entire encounter, Cody would be severely disappointed in them as a group.

“To be fair, Longshot, a _fully grown_ acklay had exactly one job, and it failed miserably. I’m still alive and kicking, far as I can tell. What’s to say Cody can’t handle himself?”

Longshot opened his mouth, no doubt to give a ballsy retort that would’ve probably landed him in a spot of trouble if he were in a different battalion, or if Cody wasn’t feeling so generous today; luckily for him, Wooley cut him off. “Yeah, but you’ve got a lightsaber, sir. All he’s got is a blaster, and a desire to fistfight the Force itself.”

“He can speak for himself, you know,” Cody snapped, though it lacked any heat. “And it’s not like it would be hard to get a lightsaber.”

Kenobi raised an eyebrow, patting the acklay on the head as she rested it on his belly, humming with content. “Oh? And just _how_ would you get one?”

“Simple. I’d just take it off you.”

A chorus of _oohs_ rang out, and really, what was this immature side of his men he was seeing? Probably from the shinies, he decided, ignoring how Longshot was trying to hit Trapper across from him with pebbles (and missing, much to the annoyance of Boil, who was receiving the most punishment). When Kenobi’s other eyebrow joined the first, and he began stroking the acklay’s back with a bit more ferocity than he had before, Cody shrugged nonchalantly, hoping that the Force wasn’t broadcasting how hard the blood was pounding in his ears and adrenaline was sharpening his senses. _Stars, I’m really just gonna do that, huh_.

He certainly didn’t look _angry_ , though, just a little—well, Cody wasn’t sure if _competitive_ was the right word, but it certainly seemed to fit. The Jedi leaned forwards even as his legs stayed extended out straight, in what was an unintentionally impressive stretch. Cody swallowed. “And you’re going to get it off of me, _how_? I’m curious.”

Cody looked down at the beast sprawled out in Kenobi’s lap, purring as she received his attentions, and he once again had to smack himself over being jealous of a knifing _acklay_. “Well, I wouldn’t really have to _take it_ , forcibly. Just wait for you to drop it.” He paused. “No pun intended on the ‘force-ibly’.”

His General seemed caught somewhere between taking offense at the accusation that he would _ever_ drop his lightsaber, and trying not to laugh at his stupid pun. A light flush crept up his neck (that was probably from the sun, Cody chided himself, no way you actually flustered him); but before either of them could say anything, Longshot let out a loud sigh, prompting a new wave of snickers to break out. “General, you can’t just let him talk to you like that. You should throw him with the Force or something.” He visibly brightened. “Or better yet, release the beast!”

“Longshot,” Kenobi sighed, in a tone that seemed to imply he’d had to explain this many times before (and, judging from how Skywalker acted, he probably _had_ ), “The Force isn’t for just throwing people around.”

Longshot paused, gears turning in his head. “…Right, but you _can_ throw people around, right?”

Their General raised his eyebrows, giving him a flat, if good-humored look; his eyes slid to the side for a moment, appearing to be considering something. “Well…yes, I can. It’s harder than inanimate objects, but it’s possible.”

Longshot visibly brightened. “So you- can you throw _me?_ ”

Cody picked up a helmet and spiked it at him; he yelped, hurrying out of throwing range. Kenobi twitched, watching him run away with a slightly bemused expression. “…Do you _want_ me to throw you?”

“If anybody is getting thrown,” Cody announced, loudly, “It will be _me_. You will _not_ ask GeneralKenobi to send you flying, unless you take it up with _both of us_. Understood?”

Slowly, a sea of hands tentatively lowered from where they’d been raised up, in what Cody was almost certain had been eagerness to ask him if they could try being levitated. Kenobi’s bemused look only deepened at the disappointed murmurs swirling around the camp, accompanied by gripes of _Cody’s a buzzkill_.

“I was under the impression,” the Jedi said slowly, “It’s not all that pleasant of an experience, if you aren’t familiar with what the Force feels like.” But the men weren’t deterred, excited whispers building as Longshot peeked out from where he’d hidden behind Trapper.

“Sir, can I _please_ try it? I want to _fly_.”

As Kenobi rubbed at a temple, squinting at him in confusion, Trapper raised a tentative hand. “Sir, I’m very sorry he’s like this.” Kenobi waved a hand, giving a subtle, fond roll of the eyes.

“Not to worry, Trapper.” He sighed, acquiescing to the hopeful looks. “I suppose I can try levitating whoever wants to experience it, sometime—maybe when we’re out of this heat. I’d rather not work up yet another sweat.”

Trapper nodded, bumping Lonshot with an elbow when he cheered. “Thanks, General—I’ve been meaning to ask about that acklay, you know. Does she- does she have a name?”

“Hm?” He patted the ridges and nodules on the acklay’s back, mouth twitching when she abruptly woke up from where she’d been drowsily napping. She chattered, turning around in a circle on his lap before immediately settling back down in the exact same position as before. “A name?”

Gearshift frowned, picking up a pebble to occupy his hands. Without warning, it crumbled into salt, and he stared down at its ruins gloomily. “She seems awful friendly for a stranger. Is she your pet?”

Cody rubbed at his eyes, hoping Kenobi wouldn’t look at him. Unfortunately, when he opened them, he was met with a playful, knowing look that made that ridiculous heat pool in his gut again. The Jedi hummed, taking his thumbs and rubbing them on either side of the acklay’s face. She _particularly_ enjoyed that one, if the happy hiss and soft gnawing on his tunic was any indication.

“Not quite a pet, no.” He shuffled around until he was cross-legged with the acklay draped over his lap. “She’s…”

“An _ally_ , more than anything,” Cody groused, mostly to himself. Kenobi’s lips twitched.

“Well, yes, that would work, but in this case? I think I’ll just call her a _friend_.” A half-smile played at his mouth while the creature made another creaky sound at him, clutching at his tabards with her front two hands and chirping incessantly. He closed his eyes. “She will choose her own name, when she is ready.”

Waxer blinked, mesmerized. “She…huh? Acklay can do that?”

“All beings can. Wild ones like this do, at any rate; they raise themselves, they name themselves.”

“But how are you supposed to know what it is?”

Kenobi hummed. “You don’t. Unless they tell you, of course. Sometimes, they will. Sometimes, they don’t. It is their choice.”

A few of the men exchanged glances, searching to see if anyone else understood whatever it was that the General meant. Cody sighed, bracing his chin on a hand. “Well, that’s not cryptic _at all_.”

“Now just where would I be if I wasn’t?” Kenobi turned his head in the direction of one of the cliffs, brow creasing in concentration. “In truth, it’s a little hard to explain. I suppose it comes down to the age-old question: what’s in a name? In the Force, nothing. Species, origin, a name one did not choose for themselves? None of it matters. At risk of sounding rather cliché—all that matters is the essence.” He stood up, stretching out with a half-smile on his face. “Speaking of the Force, I sense our transport will be here within the next minute. Are you all ready to go?”

* * *

“Sir, can I ask you something?”

Cody leaned his head against the cool metal of one of the _Negotiator’s_ support beams, grateful for the brief respite it bestowed. The relief from the heat was a welcome one; every time he got stuck out in a desert, he couldn’t help but think about how different it was from Kamino.

Unable to change out of his blacks yet, he still had salt and sand clinging to rather unpleasant places beneath his armor. Kenobi seemed to have somewhat of the same problem, if how he was subtly shaking out his gloves when he thought no one was looking was any indication.

“What is it, Cody?” The General grimaced, running a hand through his hair, still attempting to put it back into place from where the acklay had ruffled it.

A strange pang of sorrow found its way into his chest, at the thought of the thing. Sure, she hadn’t liked Cody all that much; but the whole encounter made his brothers so _happy_ , so by extension, it made Cody happy. Not to mention how Kenobi had lit up.

For all intents and purposes, the beast had almost seemed… _sad_ , too, when they started to leave. But eventually, it had given a mournful low, bowed its front half and twisted its legs in an oddly curtsy-like pose, and disappeared over one of the crags of the cliff sides. When he’d looked down over the countryside as they flew away, away from the salt and sun and sand, pieces of the landscape still bearing the scars of battle, their new friend had been nowhere in sight.

“You said something about that acklay being an _ally_. But then you said she was a friend.”

“Ah.” Kenobi’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “I figured that telling you about my _animal friends_ wouldn’t do much to convince you I don’t have a…what did you call it? ‘Animal thing’?”

Cody sighed, shaking his head. “So you _do_ have an animal thing.”

“I do _not_. All Jedi could’ve done what I did, she was just-rather social.”

“Oh, _really?_ ”

“Yes! Are you calling me a liar?”

“Your words, not mine.”

Kenobi sniffed, grimacing as he brushed yet more sand off his tunics. “Honestly, what with the attention-seeking? I was a bit reminded of Anakin.”

“I’m so sorry,” Cody deadpanned, dry as could be; Kenobi’s head snapped up to stare at him, and for a second, wondering if he’d crossed some sort of line, his heart skipped a beat. But his worries drained away as the Jedi let out a burst of laughter, a bright, unusually cheery sound that he was starting to think had something to do with the pent-up exasperation at his old apprentice he seemed to be rather tight-lipped about. Either that, or the topic of Skywalker was just a funny one; Rex would probably attest to that, to be honest.

Slowly, he got control of himself, and for a second it looked like he wanted to say something more; but instead, he just shook his head, turning towards the mess with an exasperated, if amused, sigh. “Force, Cody. I could use some water.”

Feeling that same strange boldness from earlier, Cody stepped past, brushing their shoulders together. He didn’t dare look over to see how Kenobi reacted; a moment passed, and he briefly wondered if perhaps he’d misjudged—until he felt Kenobi nudge him back. He smiled to himself, the two of them falling into step, something he found easier and easier with each passing day.

“General, I was about to say the exact same thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
